


Exandrian Gods

by AngelWithAStory



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Episode Spoilers, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 11:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10898634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelWithAStory/pseuds/AngelWithAStory
Summary: We’re Gods. It's fine.SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 97





	Exandrian Gods

**Author's Note:**

> aaaayyyy something a bit different, bit more abstract. 
> 
> i'm still laughing at the manner of Keyleth's death and it has some great potential for character growth and the team realising that they are all really fucked up. i think the fact that she just went 'we're gods, its fine' is such a dnd thing it's fucking hilarious

_We’re Gods._ She said.

Her hair flew back behind her as she plummeted to the ground. She laughed as the wind stole away her breath. Her own element, wrapped around her, whipping past her, pulling at her as she fell. The ground was getting closer. Still she laughed.

_We’re Gods._

Her hair was matted, spilled across the rocks. The waves lapped at the blood she had shed. Her bones lay shattered. Too sudden to cry out in fear, too slow to try and escape. The coin was cold against her back as the life hit her just as hard as death did.

 

 _We’re Gods_.  

His body lay at the bottom of the ocean. His sister’s hands were his only ties to who he was. His armour smelled of sea salt and ink and regret. The raven feathers on his back betrayed him, his wings were no use down here where water ruled all. Neither was he.

_We’re Gods._

The thread was the only thing keeping him afloat. A glorified marionette puppet. His Queen held his face as she held his life. She kissed his forehead as she threw him back to his friends, to his family, to his life and his loved ones. She pulled his thread tighter. His second chance.

 

_We’re Gods._

He was broken. Broken, broken, bleeding, broken. Cold stone beneath him. Cold air around him. Claws pulled at him, breaking him, breaking him apart. Screams echoed as the reality set in. Hands held him gently. Tears flowed over him like the voices he couldn’t hear.

_We’re Gods._

He shouted. He screamed. His daughter waited outside, hearing everyone but saying nothing. He wanted out. He didn’t want this any more. Not this constant peril, this constant fear, this constant moving. Yes, it was over. The Chroma Conclave was dead, gone, buried and burned and their ground salted. The battle was over. And so was his.

 

_We’re Gods._

His last words were forgiveness. He wanted her to know; her actions didn’t matter, her words no longer hurt him. He had grown. He was better. He was stronger. But her actions still hurt him. And the bullets still killed him.

_We’re Gods._

The smoke held his soul. Orthax wanted him. Orthax was going to have him. Orthax couldn’t take him. The thread snapped, his lungs filled with air. The smoke didn’t own him. The demon didn’t take him. The demons were gone. He was free.

 

_We’re Gods._

The voice had enticed him. Played on his weakness and his need for strength, for blood. What better way to get to him than through a weapon, through the tools he used for defense, through the tools he used to protect, through the tools he used to kill. This blood shed and blood lust was his achilles heel. Too bad it killed him.

_We’re Gods._

His hand gripped someone’s throat. The feel of his sister’s blood still haunted his hands. Heavy weight settled in his stomach. His head hurt, his sword was gone, his friends looked terrified. The voice in his head was gone, the ache he felt was worse, the pain in his body was dimming more and more as his eyes opened. He breathed. He lived.

 

_We’re Gods._

It happened fast. Too fast to be right. Too fast to be just. A small slip up. A small mistake. Someone didn’t look close enough, someone was too eager, too greedy. Someone wasn’t fast enough, didn’t get out the way quick enough. She hit the cold, death-infused floor. Her eyes unblinking. A raven cawed its condolences.

_We’re Gods._

The breath hit her hard. Harder than death ever could. She gasped, sucking in the cold, dead air. Her brother’s arms were holding her tight. She couldn’t recognise the look in his eye. The sorrow there, the anguish. All too foreign for her to feel and recognise. The promise hung in the air. She never heard what was said.

 

_We’re Gods._

The pincer entered her chest. She was so small. So full of life. Yet the poison still took her. The pincers still cut her open, still tore her in two, still took her life. The first transgression. Still weak, still finding their footing, still learning to love and trust each other. Yet the demon still took her. The demon still broke her.

_We’re Gods._

The light brought her back. Her faith was her shield, her pillow, her safety net. The priest was lucky, the temple was warm, her friends were determined. The tears they gave, they shed as her heart started again and her skin stitched back together. She returned, the light still bursting from her chest.

 

_We’re Gods._

But Gods still die.

**Author's Note:**

> say hi to me at [queenmoggy](http://queenmoggy.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you are also a Golden God


End file.
